


Party Crashers

by Gingervora



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingervora/pseuds/Gingervora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Merrill crash a party in Hightown. The night doesn't go the way the elf expected at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The walk from the alienage to Hawke's house in Hightown was just so nerve wrecking for Merrill. It was a long walk, for one, and the city was never that safe. Most of the time when she ran around with Hawke on her rather adventurous lifestyle they kept getting attacked even in daylight. It was possible that people just really liked to target Hawke - she did wear all those fancy mage armors anyways - instead of an elf by her own. 

But for the most part, it always made her nervous in Hightown on her own with all the eyes on her as she made her way to Hawke's house - or mansion, was it? She never knew how Fenris dealt living up here. Things felt too wide, too open and there weren't many other elves around until you got closer to the Blooming Rose. Part of her wanted to duck her face into her scarf as she opened the door to and slipped inside, and found herself greeted by Hawke's mabari.

"King!" the elf practically sung as she lowered herself down to her knees and petted him. He returned the gesture in wet dog kisses. "Is that paw healing up well?" Merrill reached down and picked up his front paw, the bandages mostly chewed on but obviously fresh. He didn't wince when she touched him, so she took it as a good sign. 

"Merrill!" She looked up to see Hawke walking her way, arms open and immediately she leapt up to hug her. Hawke pressed a kiss to her cheek before retracting with a momentary look of disgust at the scent of slobber and then down at King. "Oh, you got to her first, huh?"

Merrill giggled into her lover's shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. "He didn't get my lips, Celes."

Hawke, with that trademark smirk of hers, leaned in closely and kissed her without another word. "My favorite part." With another kiss, she angled back just slight and looked down at the elf. "You know, you're allowed to sleep over here."

Merrill gave her a soft smile before looking away and towards the floor. "Yeah, I know. I just had a few things I wanted to do back at my place." When she looked back up, she saw Hawke's lips turned up in a grin but when she looked at her blue eyes, she could see just a tinge of sadness that she had no idea how to properly address. Part of her wondered if Hawke secretly disapproved of her working on the eluvian despite the vocal support, or perhaps if it was the fact she didn't stay over more than a few days at a time that upset her. She wished she knew how to fix the small broken look in her eyes, but the only thing on her mind was to repair the mirror that utterly refused to work.

"But I'm here now! Is that your mother's bread I smell?" she asked and Hawke seemed to accept the change in subject rather happily.

"Yeah, she always likes to cook my favorite sweetbreads whenever I go out. I think she thinks it will keep me home." Celes moved her hands from Merrill's shoulders down to her waist.

"You're going out tonight? Did something come up?" She tilted her head to the side. Hadn't Hawke and the others just returned from the Wounded Coast a few hours ago? Why was she planning on going back out so soon?

"Ah, only sort of," Hawke said with a light laugh, a hand moving up to run through her black hair. With a sort of nostalgia, Merrill remembered when her hair had been even shorter than her own, though after the Deep Roads she had chosen to grow it out. At least it was fun to braid, now. "I'm, ah, going to crash a party-"

"Is that Merrill?" Leandra yelled out, interrupting them as she peaked through the doorway. "It's nice to see you again, young lady."

Merrill was torn between greeting Leandra and questioning Hawke on what she meant by crashing a party, looking between the two Hawkes with her mouth agape and her brows knitted in confusion before she finally settled on Leandra. 

"Hawke says you're making sweet rolls," Merrill replied with a smile. Leandra had rather quick to accepted their pairing, not something she had initially expected from her, being from a noble family and all. A Dalish and a human? Then again, they were both mages so she supposed the idea that there'd be anything normal between Hawke and someone was a little out the window already.

"Well, sweetbread. Slight difference. I was hoping she'd stay and tell me about her day, but she seems so set on going out again." The older Hawke looked from Merrill to Celene. 

"Have you shown her the dress yet?"

"What dress?"

"Mother!" Hawke's whole face turned bright red at the mention of a dress. "No, she just got here, remember?"

"Oh, right. Well, tell me how she likes it." And with that, Leandra left again, Orana tailing behind her with a few comments of how she didn't always have to help her.  
"What dress?" Merrill asked again, her attention back on Hawke. 

"I... oh, well, my mom and Orana offered to make you a dress so you could come with me to the party. It was kind of a rushed thing, since I just found out about the party last week and they also wanted to make mine-"

"I get a dress?" The elf had practically light up. Her earlier anxiety over the attention she drew in Hightown was almost completely gone at the idea of a dress. She always donned her armor since it was what she usually felt most comfortable in and had a link to her old life with her clan, but the idea of dressing up seemed so fancy for living in the alienage that she never really bothered.

Hawke finally let go of her and laced her fingers between Merrill's as she led her up to her room. On the bed were two dresses laid out carefully. One with an array of dark and light reds, as well as the Amell family crest carefully stitched into its back. Merrill had seen Hawke wear that a few times before, mostly to noble gatherings where they wanted to hear about the latest Deep Roads exploits. Not to mention, Hawke was never one to turn down free food. Of course, to those events, Merrill had not been invited. She had merely been at Hawke's home before she ran off to the other part of Hightown.

The other was full of greens and browns. It was simple, but it didn't have an overly human feel to it, if that made any sense. Not the latest Orlesian fashions, but instead it looked vaguely similar to her current attire: long sleeves, fabric around the waist to pull in the other layers, and slight cuts at the bottom front almost like it was intended to run in.

"Orana was a mess worrying if she got your sizes right. Do you... like it?" The blush from earlier was contained just to her cheeks down, but the way she bit down on her bottom lip was telling of how much hung on Merrill's answer.

"Celes, I absolutely love it. I can't believe! But... why such a gift?" Silence hung in the air for just a moment before it hit her. Her ears perked up at the realization, her mouth shaping in an O. "I'm coming with you! Are you sure you want me to? What if people talk? Mythal help me, surely you don't want that."

Hawke cupped the elf's face with her hands. "I want everyone to know exactly who I love." She leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on her lips.

Now it was Merrill's turn to blush. "So when's this party we're going to?"

"In about an hour or so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write as much as I want to, so I'm hoping a multi chapter Merrill fic will help me with getting into the swing of bigger projects rather than my oneshots I generally write. Starts off a little slow, but I'm hoping it'll get better as it goes on.


	2. Chapter 2

They had spent most of the hour fitting themselves in the dresses and doing each other's hair. At one point, Orana had excused herself from the kitchen to come up and do a few final touches to make Merrill's dress fit just a little better. When it came time to leave, Hawke had all but ran out the door. She kept saying something about how they couldn't be late, that timing was everything, though Merrill didn't understood one bit. Maybe she'd ask Hawke about it later.

It wasn't too far, just past the Chantry some ways and a few of the curls in Hawke's hair were coming loose as they sped along. Once more, Merrill was conscious about the looks directed her way. The dress was too much, she knew it. Sure, she was aware she got looks for her Dalish attire, but that was who she was and while she enjoyed the dress - it's so soft! - she couldn't help but feel like it drew the wrong kind of attention though.

"No, wait, not that way," Hawke said, reaching for her hand to pull her away from the steps that led up to the ornate door. 

"But this is the front door. Are we not supposed to enter this way?" Merrill responded in confusion.

"We've got another entrance." That's all Hawke had to say on that subject before pulling Merrill into the alley by the mansion. She led her to a stack of wooden boxes that led up to an open window on the second floor. Something about it seemed too purposeful to have been an accidental shape. Hawke hiked up her skirts and began to climb, stopping at the top of each box to help Merrill up.

Inside, Hawke smoothed down her dress and tucked away the loose strands of hair behind her ear before doing the same for Merrill. 

"There. You look perfect, Merrill," she said and the elf gave a small smile. As she followed behind her lover, Merrill quickly became distracted by the decorations of the halls they walked through. The portraits of family, the fresh flowers in pretty vases - oh the flowers smelled so nice - and the clean floors. They reminded her of how her place seemed to look whenever she didn't have guests. Minus the portraits, of course.

It almost reminded her of Hawke's place in a sense. It certainly wasn't like anything in Lowtown. The walls were painted a golden color with decorative sconces lighting up the hall. Merrill could only imagine how long it would take to light them all up and how many candles this place went through on a weekly basis. The light flickered on the wooden floors, lighting up the rugs underneath their feet. How much did this place cost?

When the hallway opened up to a balcony that overlooked the first floor on. No one seemed to notice them and Merrill let out a sigh of relief. At least this wasn't going to be like one of Hawke's grand entrances. As they walked down the flight of stairs, Merrill holding on the Hawke's arm, she couldn't help but notice the slight turn of helmets from the guards.

"It feels like we're not supposed to be here." Out of anything she could've felt in that moment, curiosity outweighed the rest.

"We're not." Merrill looked up at Celene with a half shocked face, then reminded herself that climbing boxes to get through a window probably hadn't meant they were invited. Part of her had thought that Hawke was just being... Hawke. A grand entrance - everyone looking at her. That kind of confidence and bravado were some of the things she loved about her, but when she was by her side, it was almost a little intimidating and inspiring at the same time.

No one at the party really seemed to notice them yet, so they helped themselves to some of the food. It was alright, she noted, but she knew she was partial to more elven styled cooking, Leandra's cooking being one of the exceptions. 

"So what are we doing here?" she asked now that they had a moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my love. I wish you had shown up earlier so I could've really told you." Hawke smiled. Not the quirky or sly smile she wore in public, but a genuine smile that was almost rare to all but Merrill. She loved that smile. "Apparently since my family's rise, some of the nobles wanted to come in and collect past debts that my grandparents owed and Gamlen never paid back. Nothing really big, but I think they just don't like that people from Lowtown are now their neighbors."

"Kind of like when the halla wander too close to bears?" the elf inquired as Hawke picked some sweet treat off a platter as the servant walked by.

"Yeah, like that. Wait, am I the bear or the halla?" she asked though her mouth was half stuffed with the treat.

"Halla. They're very strong, smart, and loyal."

"Good." Merrill watched as Hawke looked around. "I don't see him now, but tell me if you spot a guy with a scar on his hand. Across the back of the hand like this." She made a tracing symbol on her own hand, from her wrist to her thumb. "Also, he's got black hair."

Black hair would be easy, though many people would likely have that color. The scar seemed a little more identifying, but hidden under gloves, it'd be near impossible to find. "Have you met him before?"

Hawke shrugged. It seemed out of character compared to how graceful she looked, but Hawke was still Hawke no matter what she wore. "I met his thugs. Same thing, right?"

Merrill sighed with a smile. Part of her was glad this was some mission of hers. The idea of being dragged to noble's parties more often seemed a little too overwhelming for her. This, however, seemed like fun. Tracking down a man in the midst of a party - a man who apparently employed thugs - and spending the evening at Hawke's side? It sounded perfect to her. "I wonder if Varric will tell stories about this later."

Hawke smiled and slipped her fingers into Merrill's hand. "I'm sure he will."


	3. Chapter 3

Despite having crashed a party - a term Merrill had been sure meant actually breaking something - they meandered about the mansion just like every other guest there. Some stopped to talk to Hawke about her Deep Roads expedition, a tale that Hawke never refused to tell. She usually told it with exaggerated detail, though leaving out parts like Bartand's betrayal, substituting it with a cave in story. It was an odd feeling to watch Hawke tell the story and the nobles not even casting a glance at the elf by her side so she took the opportunity to wander elsewhere.

Merrill caught Celene's eye as she began to move, though Hawke didn't stop her. To cover more ground, she imagined Hawke saying, even though Merrill was just headed in the direction of the food table. Their time searching for the man proved fruitless, but it was hard going on so little and Hawke made a point to curse Varric for not getting them more information other than a scar, hair color, and where he might show up next. 

Merrill picked up a glass of wine and brought it up to her lips to take a few sips as she leaned on the table and looked over the people before her. Their clothes were so intricately designed and heavy, she wondered how much coin went into them and if they were crafted by elven hands. She wasn't as close to the elves in the alienage, but she knew them in passing and especially in the market. A lot of them worked in the docks and other unsightly jobs, but some of the others managed to make it as servants or helping hands. Was having an outfit made by elven hands not as brag-worthy as human tailored clothing? 

All of the servants she saw here were elven, though she didn't recognize any of them. Did they live in this mansion? And which one was paid off by Varric to stack those boxes for them to get in with?

"Enjoying the evening?"

Merrill almost jumped at the question, the liquid in her glass threatening to spill as she settle herself. A noble, if she had to assume anything by the similarly expensive tailored clothes and charming smile. Black hair, she couldn't help but note after spending most of her time at the party thinking about hair color. 

"Ah, I suppose," she said before hiding behind another drink of wine. The man before her just smiled. He looked a few years younger than herself, which seemed out of place in a sea of nobles who held their own titles. 

"Not your cup of tea? Or wine, rather?" he asked as he picked up one of the wine glasses himself though he did not take a drink of it. Her eyes darted to his hands, only to find them gloved. _Fenedhis_.

"What? No, the wine is fine. Is there tea?" At her question, he simply laughed instead of answering her. How rude, Merrill thought. 

"You do not come to parties often?" he clarified instead.

"Oh. Yes, this is my first. From the stories I've heard, I thought it was going to be a little more dramatic." 

Once more, he laughed and she wondered if she was saying something wrong or if he thought she was trying to be funny. "I'm afraid to disappoint you, Marcher parties are not as fun as their Orlesian counterparts. Most nobles here make up stories or details the next day to make their neighbors jealous." 

Both of them awkwardly raised their glasses for a drink and Merrill looked out to find Hawke, who was still carrying on her story of the Deep Roads. From the way her arms were moving at the queued laughter, she could only assume she just got to the part of the rock monsters and the witty one liner she had made up for telling the story.

"Are you friends with Serrah Hawke?" he asked.

"Very much so! Isn't she just wonderful?" she replied, accidentally letting a dreamy sigh. Her confidence, her determination, even her hidden flaws where things Merrill loved about her.

"Ah, where are my manners? I've seemed to have forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Blane Acheson." Blane gave a slight bow, holding his glass   
steady. "And you are?"

Merrill just tipped her head at him. "Merrill of clan Sabrae. Do you know Hawke?" she inquired with a raised brow.

"No, I have not the privilege to meet our Deep Roads explorer yet. Her mother is from the Amell line, is she not? My father used to have a few business relations to them. And hopefully have those relations again if Hawke's presence here is anything to read into. Why else would my father invite her?" Merrill was almost surprised at all the information he had offered up to her freely and with having barely touched his wine despite. 

"Right. The invitation. We were invited," she said through a smile just as Hawke rejoined her. "Hawke! This is Blane Acheson, son of the man who invited us here." 

Hawke seemed to pick up on the queue and nodded. "Yes, where is he tonight?" 

Blane gave a shrug. "His office, probably. This party is more of a fundraising thing than anything else."

"Isn't it more effective to be here when trying to snag some sovereign?" Hawke asked.

Merrill expected him to laugh but he just shrugged again and then offered a smile at Merrill. "For the most part, that's what I'm here for." 

"Wait, what business is it?" Merrill asked as Hawke took the wine from her hands, taking a long drink of it.

"Expeditions, like the one Serrah Hawke here went on in the Deep Roads, though less darkspawn and more open waters. There's a nice profit to be made in exploring the seas if you know how to do it right," Blane explained and set down his glass on the table. Creators, Merrill thought, what if someone else tries to drink from it? "But I've taken up enough of your time and I have other matters to get to. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening."

As he wandered out to the crowd, Hawke turned to Merrill with a big grin. "I think we should talk with her father."

"Huh? Why? Are you going to give him money?" Merrill asked.

Hawke shook her head. "No, but after my story, the nobles wanted to complain about how they were here just out of courtesy. The Acheson Expeditions is having financial troubles and no one wants to put their money in with him. It's motive for sending thugs after us if he's that desperate for money."

"But Blane didn't seem too desperate for money. He didn't ask us for any," Merrill offered. Part of what Hawke was saying made sense, but it didn't make _total_ sense. It felt a little off. "Any why not just send us an invitation? Why send thugs against someone who braved the Deep Roads?"

Hawke sighed, her posture not as formal. "I know it doesn't make the most sense yet, but this is probably the biggest lead we have so far." Then a smile grew on her face. "Besides, it's not a real party unless you sneak around and break into someone's private quarters."

"Oh, sneaking around does sound fun, doesn't it?" Hawke's smile was almost contagious as a similar one spread across Merrill's lips. "Alright, lets do it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I wanted to get this scene right and it simple took a while to write it out, with summer classes and all. Thanks for your patience!

Sneaking out of the party was easier than anticipated. Despite the security, they didn't seem to react to an elf and a human leaving the main hall to the garden. They hadn't even been questioned why no one noticed them walking in the front door that evening. Perhaps they were just bad at their jobs?

The garden was decent, by Merrill's standards. Not enough flowers, but plenty of brushes and tall shrubbery as well as a tree or two. The pathways were entrancing to look at, stone mosaics not depicting anything but looking nice nonetheless in the grass they sat on top of. The building surrounding the garden almost reminded her of the alienage with all the buildings around the vhenadahl, except this place didn't smell like mud and waste. Instead, it smelled sweet like the Viscount's garden and the night's air felt cool on her skin. 

Without conscious thought, the elf laced her fingers in Hawke's hand and she used it as a way to pull Merrill along to a stone bench in the center of the garden. It was small so they sat hip to hip, not like they wouldn't have anyways. When she rested her head on the taller woman's shoulder and glanced up at Hawke, Merrill couldn't help but be a tad disappointed that she wasn't looking at her. Instead, Hawke was searching at the walls and windows, trying to find Blane's father's office.

"That one," Hawke said with a nod towards the northern wall, on the opposite side of the doors they had taken to come out here. "That's the only room with lights still on. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Climb the trees." Merrill responded without a moment's hesitation and Hawke's look of surprise quickly changed into a smirk. 

"Exactly."

She looked down at the dress Leandra and Orana had made for her, glad for the slits on the sides. It was much easier to move around in and seeing as Hawke's plan to get into this party had been by a stack of boxes, Merrill lack of surprise was spot on.

Merrill went first up the tree as Hawke acted as a lookout. She watched as a man, seemingly distressed, paced his room for a few minutes before checking his appearance in the mirror and leaving his room, though not blowing out the candles first. Lucky timing on their part. The elf signaled for Hawke to follow her up when she opened the window and slipped inside, helping her in as she wobbled on the end of the branch and into the study.

She saw Hawke raise her hand and Merrill quickly pushed it back down. "Someone will see the light."

"Merrill, I can't see in the dark," Hawke replied with a huff, but she didn't sound frustrated. If anything, she sounded entertained.

"I can," Merrill stated. 

"Yeah, the shining eyes sorta give that away."

She couldn't help but be thankful for the dark room, for she felt a blush crawled all the way to her ears. 

"Just give me a moment, and I'm sure I'll find something." Merrill moved towards the desk, but Hawke grabbed her waist from behind and pulled her close. She pressed her lips against the crook of her neck. "I can't look if you're holding on to me."

"He just left," Hawke said, kissing the side of Merrill's neck and up to her ears, "I don't think he'll be back for a while."

She felt a little uneasy, knowing any moment that Blane's father could return for a forgotten item or to return to whatever he had been busy with. Creators, an equal part of her just wanted to kiss Hawke until her lips turned blue. She could get lost in her and forget any of her worries when she stood with Hawke. She always looked so confident, so sure whether it was leading her friends through dangerous foes or in private with just her, even though she knew that Hawke faltered from time to time. The brave face she put on to hide her insecurities, even that part of her she loved unconditionally.

Merrill twisted around to face Hawke, gently touching Hawke's cheeks with her hands and looking into eyes bluer than she had ever seen before making the first move to kiss her. Merrill moved up to half sit on the desk, her feet barely touching the ground anymore. Hawke's hands skimmed up Merrill's legs and continued up until on hand rested against her waist and the other tangled in her short, black hair.

They gasped for quick breaths in between desperate kisses, pulling themselves together so barely an inch of space separated them. Merrill's hands slid from Hawke's cheeks and down to her shoulders, breaking the kiss to take her in for just a moment. Happiness filled her to the brim, and she threw herself back into the kiss with such energy, Hawke momentarily froze with surprise though it only lasted for a moment.

Hawke leaned forward and Merrill let herself lay down on the desk, thankful it was just a bunch of papers instead of any writing quills or other items that might poke her back. She let her hands rest on the desk by her head and reached up to meet Hawke's lips with every kiss. Hawke's hands trailed up from her waist. Merrill could feel her heart pounding away and it almost hurt with every beat. Here? Now? Not that she opposed to it exactly...

Instead, her ears perked at the sound of crumpled paper and Hawke leaned up, casting a soft glow from her hands to read it. It was an odd sight seeing Hawke breathless and kneeling on top of a desk with paper in her hands after what happened - or what she thought was going to happen. Merrill couldn't help but enjoy the look of the human's disheveled brown hair. 

"This is it," Hawke said. "Serrah Acheson was the one who sent those men after us. This is a letter confirming payment to attack me and my family for intimidation purposes." She shook her head and stepped down from the desk to the floor. "Mother hasn't mentioned Achesons before, much less a debt to them. I mean, it's possible its one of Gamlen's many outstanding debts, but... how could he owe money to these people?"

"We might ask them?" Merrill offered as she sat up, combing her hair with her fingers. 

"Oh yes. 'We went snooping through your office and we'd like to ask you a few questions about stuff we found there.' That'd go great if they didn't throw us out at the word 'snooping'. Actually, I should throw myself out. That's a horrible word."

Merrill smiled. "So instead we should just attack them and ask questions later?"

"I do like the sound of that, but no. Maybe there's something more around here that-"

The door to the room flew open and Blane's father stood in the doorway looking rather panicked.

"That's not what you think it is!" he blurted out but didn't make any motion to move forward. When Hawke's hand moved up, Merrill caught her arm. Unless they were going to kill him, Hawke couldn't use magic here.

"It looks like paper to me, unless I'm mistaken," Hawke cheekily replied, waving the letter in her hand. 

He shook his head and took a small step closer to them and his hands extended towards them. "No - I mean, yes it is paper - but it's not mine. Someone put that in my papers earlier today. It's addressed to me, but I never remembered receiving it or how it could've been put on my desk. I've been up here all night trying to figure out why."

"Did you come up with a solution?" Merrill watched Hawke's features turn bored. A mystery solved wasn't any reason to stick around any longer. Well, unless they were going to crash the party a little more. That'd be rather fun! Maybe they could break a few things, cause the kind of scandal that Varric liked to write.

"When I returned to the party to hear that one of our new Hightown neighbors came uninvited to my party, who seemingly disappeared from the scenes, I ran back here. I don't see you being here as a coincidence." He took a breath and gestured to the letter in Hawke's hands. "I believe someone's setting me up for you to take me out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. My original plan had been to split this into two separate chapters, but I figured it might just be best to wrap this up in a single chapter, especially as I'm back in school now. With luck, I'll be able to keep up with new fanfiction this quarter so I hope you'll stick with me. Thank you so much!

"Pbbbhhhtttt!"

Merrill turned with scorn from Ser Acheson to Hawke as she blew a raspberry.

"What? This is a bunch of hookum. 'Oh no! You found a letter I hid! I come back at exactly the right time to tell you it wasn't me! It's someone else!'" Hawke's impersonation of him was very shrill. "Ok, then what's his name? I bet this mysterious competitor doesn't even exist. Wait, competitor in what? Honestly, Merrill you believe him?"

Merrill shrugged. "He looks sincere."

"He looks like he's enjoyed a very comfortable life."

Blane's father shook his head. "Not always and if you'd abstain a rush to judgement I will explain." He waited, looking to Hawke for a motion to continue. When Hawke threw up her hands, he finally continued. "I inherited my father's expedition company two decades ago. Outside of the Deep Roads, there's a limited amount of space to explore and profit from, especially considering I have a competitor. Warren Fletcher is his name. Nasty fella, but I never expected he'd do something like this."

"Why not just explore the Deep Roads?" Merrill piped up and Hawke wore a tired look, though it looked more thoughtful than frustrated this time.

"The Deep Roads are extremely risky. The only reason I came out on top was that it was right after the Blight. Either everyone ends up rich or everyone ends up dead, and that's only if you know where you're going as well. It's not..." Hawke shook her head. "It's not something I would suggest to anyone."

Merrill pursed her lips, wishing she had thought carefully before speaking. The Deep Roads were never a simple subject around Hawke, not after losing her brother Carver to the Wardens.

"Fine, suppose I believe you. Why not hire assassins? Why attack me and give me a reason to come after you?" Hawke asked. She sounded about as annoyed as when Hubert kept coming to Hawke's home for more advice about how to run the Bone Pit.

"With all honesty, I'm not completely sure. Assassins are good but sometimes it can lead a trail back to you. Or maybe he didn't like it that you cut in on some of the buyers we usually sell to when you came out of the Deep Roads and wanted to teach you a lesson. It could be any number of reasons." Ser Acheson shrugged and walked to the open window they had used to climb in and closed it. "Glad to see my security is still impecable."

Hawke picked at her fingernails, of which Merrill only assumed she was doing while deciding how to handle this. Merrill on the other hand already had an idea on what to do.

"You seem like a nice guy and Blane was really sweet as well, but if you want us to believe that you're being set up, that if we leave that we'll be safe, that Hawke's family will be safe, then you're going to have to offer us something." That got Hawke's attention. She stared at Merrill with big and curious eyes and she felt herself blush. Whenever she tagged along with Celes, she might pipe up every so often to comment but never take control of the conversation like this.

Ser Acheson cleared his throat with a cough and looked Merrill in the eyes, though only for a second before returning to Hawke. "As I said, I've hit some financial troubles, but I can spare a few guards and make a public statement. If anything happens to you, I'll be the one under suspicion."

Despite the generous offer, Hawke waved it off. "That'll hurt you more than it'll help me. But the offer itself makes me a little more comfortable trusting you. Besides, even now the Guard-Captian has my house protected."

"Aveline does?" Merrill interrupted.

"Yeah. Did I forget to tell you?"

"A little bit, yeah, but that's fine," Merrill shrugged.

"Anyways, where does the guy live and can I take some food with me?" Hawke finally asked.

"Oh! And at least a bottle of wine," Merrill added.

The man sighed like he had recently finished a day of watching over five toddlers, not unlike how Hawke sometimes looked after taking Fenris and Anders anywhere. "He lives across the market in Hightown, and feel free to take food and some drink so long as you investe in my company."

"What? Like four, five soverigns?" He nodded. "Yeah, I didn't exactly bring money with me when I broke into your house." Merrill laughed, her hands instantly covering her mouth to hide her smile.

"Then please consider what you already taken as a gift and head home. I have a business to run." Poor guy, Merrill couldn't help but think. Hawke was like a force of nature, unstopable in the face of adversity. Had she not been her friend and lover, she might look as tired at this man.

Hawke made a move to leave but Merrill grabbed her wrist. "Before we go, can I see your hands?"

"My hands?" he asked, clearly surprised though he complied nonetheless. Ser Acheson pulled at the fingers of his gloves. Even in the dim light, Merrill could see his hands as clear as day: no scar. Part of her was a little disappointed. It would've been a rather eventful night had he ben the man he just convinced them he wasn't. Instead, they had to follow another clue.

They left the party hand in hand. Hawke's free hand held a wine bottle she snagged on the way out. The cork was missing and it passed between in turns, sip after sip.

"I felt like there was going to be a fight in the end or something," Merrill confessed, taking the bottle from Hawke for a sip. "Actually, I was kind of hoping there was going to be a fight."

"I could go back and fight that guy - what was his name? Blane?" Hawke offered, lovingly giving Merrill's hand a squeeze.

"Why would you fight Blane? He was actually rather sweet." Merrill looked out at the deserted roads of Hightown. Surprisingly, they were about as likely to get in a fight here as they were in Lowtown at night, but she could see the guards patrolling the area even in the dark of night. Why didn't Aveline hire elven guards? Surely they would make much better night patrol-ers thans humans.

"He was sweet. Sweet on _you_. Couldn't you tell?" Hawke snatched the bottle from Merrill and took a quick drink of it.

"What? Really?" Whether it was the wine or hearing that once again someone had made a pass at her that she had not noticed, she could feel her cheeks heating up. "Wait, were you jealous?"

"Just a teensy bit, but then I realized he doesn't have my quick wit and fantastic muscles, so I figured I was pretty safe." Hawke began to swing their hands casually. Her head dropped and a small smile replaced the cocky grin. "And I also remembered you're also the sweetest person in the world so why wouldn't he like you?"

Merrill's heart skipped. She looked away, hiding the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"Honestly, Merrill, I'm glad every day you're by my side. Doing this tonight... I'm not sure I could've done it without you."

"I-I didn't realize. I'm glad I can help, anyway I can. Plus, we're not done yet," Merrill pointed out and Hawke laughed. More than ever, she was aware of the way their hands fit together, how they walked next to each other, especially how she had to skip every once in a while to keep up with Hawke's long strides. She loved being near her. She loved Hawke.

"That's very true." They rounded the corner, following the instructions Ser Acheson had given them until they found his door. A few knocks and a handful of minutes later, a tired man in his night gown threw open the door, his face scrunched together as if he was about to give them the thrasing of a life time. Instead, he relaxed at the sight of them, as did Merrill. The man had blond hair.

"Warren Fletcher?"

"That's me. Serrah Hawke and..." Warren gestured to Merrill with an unscarred hand, "company. What are you doing up at this hour?"

"It's barely even midnight, ser," Hawke replied.

"It's not him." Merrill stood up on the tips of her toes to whisper in Hawke's ear.

"Well then, who is it?" Hawke asked, waving the wine bottle around.

"As much as I'd love to play meet and greet in the night with you, Serrah Hawke, I have no patience for drunks. Go home." He slammed the door in their faces.

Hawke pulled her hair out of its tie and ran her hand through the locks as she walked away. "Great. Tonight couldn't have gone any better."

Merrill quickly ran up and kissed her. Hawke's arms hovered at her side for one moment before wrapping around the smaller woman despite one hand still holding the wine bottle. Celes tasted like the wine and her kisses were just as sweet and powerful. Merrill wrapped her arms around Celes's neck, dragging the kissing on just a little longer before pulling away. She looked beautiful in the moonlight.

"I had fun tonight. We'll find who ever went after your family another day," Merrill told her. "Because we will find them."

Hawke softly sighed but looked relatively calmer than before and dropped her hands to her side. "Thanks, I needed that. How about we head home and see if we can get a late night hot bath."

"I think that sounds like a great way to end the day-"

Suddenly the bottle in Hawke's hands shattered, a sharp crack of sound in the otherwise still night. The let go of each other, both reaching for the staffs that would've been on their back had they not left them at Hawke's home.

"I really thought you were able to follow a simple set of clues." Merrill scanned the area for the voice. "Now I can only think: is this really the person that came out of the Deep Roads with a fortune? That made her way up from a refugee in Lowtown?"

She heard more footsteps and had the sinking feeling that who ever this was, they were not alone.

"So I don't meet your expectations by walking into a trap you set up for me? That's a shame. Here I was, also about to offer to do all your dirty work- and yes that included actual laundry," Hawke joked but Merrill knew she was just as nervous. In that moment, she watched as people walked from out of the shadows. Five, no eight people of assorted weapons. Where had the guards gone?

Finally the man connected to the voice stepped out of the shadows. He had tied back his long dark hair, the dual dagger hilts standing out from beside his face. The armor he worse was even shinier than Sebastians, if she could believe her own eyes. "It was going to be so nice. You kill the Achesons, I kill you for killing outstanding citizens and your family goes back to the hovel it crawled out of. Really, the plan I had was so elegant it's a shame you can't do anything right."

Hawke let out a short laugh that the man seemed a little more than surprised by. "Oh, I knew it. Merrill, I called it in the beginning, didn't I? I totally knew it was some noble who didn't like the idea of my family moving into Hightown.

"Hawke, we need to run for it. Aveline is at your house and it's not far away," Merrill suggested, bouncing on the balls of her feet. They shouldn't fight these people, not with just the two of them there.

"I might have... sort of lied about that," Hawke confessed.

"What?"

"I don't know! It sounded like a good idea at the time!"

The man cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but shall we?"

"You're kind of an idiot, aren't you?" Hawke scoffed, pointing the broken bottle neck in his direction.

"I beg your pardon!" Despite coming after them to kill Hawke and send her family back into ruin, he seemed genuinely surprised that Hawke insulted him.

"Yeah, most people would've attacked me by now. What are you doing? Standing around while my lover and I complain." Merrill would've blushed at the public declatrion of their relationship to a stranger had the stranger not been surrounded by his goons with the intent to hurt them.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's just... I assumed you'd have weapons. This is hardly fair."

Merrill and Hawke exchanged a quick, entertained look. This man had no idea who we was really dealing with. In an instant, they lead the attack with magic. Tendrils of Merrill's magic sprouted from the ground, pulling down three of the men while Hawke threw up a wall of fire on a few of the goons. The noble barely had the time to draw his daggers.

"Mages!" he blurted out, double taking at the magic that swarmed his men. "Even more of a reason you don't belong here." He ran at Hawke with weapons in hand, though a simple burst of her magic knocked him back. Leaving the wall of fire burning, Hawke focused on the noble, tossing spell after spell of fire and ice after him, leaving Merrill to hold back the eight other combatants.

Merrill managed to hold down a few with the magic tendrils, feeling herself grow stronger the longer they stuck, but spreading out magic between eight people was beyond even her. She cast a terror spell on one that braved to run through the fire, giving the others pause but it wasn't long before Hawke's spell finally ran its course.

She dared to turn her sight to Hawke and the noble. His left leg was covered in a film of ice and the fire on his arm burned fiercely. The worst of it was a spike of ice embedded in his shoulder. It glimmered in the light of the fire. Hawke stood over him as he attempted to crawl away, a ball of fire in her hands-

An arrow that zoomed past Merrill's face took her attention away from Hawke, focusing back on the other fighters. She ran at them, activating her barrier not a moment too soon as another arrow flew her way. Quickly, she cast another terror spell on the archer. The last thing she needed was for Hawke to get struck by an arrow while she held the attention of the melee enemies.

More magic tendrils came from the ground, holding down the warriors and powering her up mana reserves again. What she knew, how she fought was unlike any other. She used both blood and Dalish magic and she would use them to protect Hawke. She sent spell after spell at the noble's goons, al the while evading every attack she could, though a few hit the mark and her barriers only protected her from so much. What she would've given from some armor and a staff right now.

Suddenly, fire joined Merrill's spells and she turned to see Hawke right back at her side. A smear of blood ran over Hawke's nose. Between the two of them, it didn't take long to take out the rest of the fighters, though two of them attempted to run away. They couldn't just let them go as any mention or rumor of Hawke's magic outside her family and friends could have her dragged to the Circle.

Breathless, bloody, and tired, Hawke reached for Merrill's hand. Merrill took it wordlessly, looking at the section of Hightown they fought in. The ground was half covered in ice like some kind of urban frozen pond. Banners and barrels were lit from the fire of stray spells, burning brightly against the dark of the night. The bodies of their assaliants were strewn across, none of their unmoving positions looking comfortable in the least.

"Maybe we should just go take that bath now," Merrill suggested. Her other hand fingered at the fabric of the dress Orana and Leandra worked to make for her, fingerin the cuts and breaks in the cloth.

"No arguments there."

What a night.


End file.
